Your Fault.

Stop. Stop caring,

There is nothing left to prove,

What good comes from sharing,

There’s “nothing” left to loose,

Stop crying about this,

Please don’t run away,

Don’t lie to me again,

There are books left to say,

Haley, lying doesn’t suit you,

It’s okay to share,

But is it still okay,

For all I can’t bear?

Or when there are things I don’t talk about,

When there are things I don’t post,

When there are letters from September,

Addressed to a Ghost?

It’s hard to sleep homesick,

I have a pillow for that,

Nothing like my sister calling me stupid,

(No words; but I laugh).

You should have been his friend, Haley,

And then he would have asked,

But asking was never the problem,

The time for that has passed.

You aren’t perfect, that’s got to be the problem,

“Proving it” drives him away,

Please let me lose my mind.

There is nothing to say.

It’s actually funny Haley,

See? It still is nice to laugh,

Even though it’s just your problem,

It’s only the aftermath.

It’s nice to be alone and afraid,

And finally have the guts to leave,

Just run away, don’t laugh don’t cry

“There’s nothing else” you need,

After all, your friends may not know,

What you bury inside,

But still; at the end of the day,

You started this lie.


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I am a second-grade teacher and pastor-to-be who loves people. I spend my weekends with friends or wandering the museums of DC alone and with a journal, trying to put words on the places of the soul that still feel wordless. I spent most of my days at school trying to learn patience through my students and running on sheer nerdy passion. I follow Jesus Christ, and savor that as my most important identity--that I am a child of God, as are infinite others, regardless of their other identities. Christ is my one thing.

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